Chapter Eleven
Art opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Commander Morali looked past him at his escort. “You’d better go, Parna.” He hesitated. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted, and finally, the big man shrugged and left.
At last, Art found his voice. “Iznar, I presume?”
“That’s what some people call me. But you can call me Avara.” Her eyes flicked to Lorn, and she frowned. “I didn’t expect you to be accompanied. Especially not by a child.”
“I’m not a child,” Lorn said.
Avara grunted, a sound halfway between amusement and disgust. She touched a control beneath the desk, and the room lights came up. For the first time, Art saw another door off to his right. Avara crossed to it. “In here.”
Bemused, he trailed her, Lorn at his heels, into a comfortable apartment with almost as many plant
